Chance of a Lifetime
by K.S.Ford
Summary: What happens when an eccentric billionaire recruits a bunch of teenage misfits to form his own elite group of crime fighters? How will the team fit together? And above all, who will brave the danger, put their life on the line, and take the chance of a lifetime?
1. The Meeting

***Author's Note: Hi guys, welcome to my first fanfiction! Exciting, right? I hope you like my story and come to love the characters as much as I do. I know the beginning's a little slow- bear with me, I promise it will get much better. I will try to upload every couple weeks. Please let me know what you think! On that note- enjoy!***

They came for me at school, the men in the black suits. They looked like those guys from the Men in Black movies, with their sunglasses and little head pieces, and they showed up in a big black stretch limo. Everyone at Berwick Academy stopped and stared. Even at my pristine boarding school, this was unusual. I watched intently from my perch on one of the courtyard benches, wondering, just like everyone else, what they were doing here.

I was so absorbed in thought that when they suddenly stopped in front of me, my heart just about stopped beating. "Saphira Elizabeth Fay?" One of them intoned in a deep voice. He had close cropped brown hair and was built like a bulldozer. I swallowed and nodded slowly, wondering how and why this man knew my full name. "Would you mind accompanying us for a short trip?" asked the other man, his hair was blonde and had a slight wave at the top, and like the other man, was huge, though slightly shorter. I hugged my messenger bag to my chest nervously, "I, um, I actually have a-a class. I'm sorry." I muttered, looking around, trying to beg people for help with my eyes. After all, everyone was still watching. Unfortunately, I was probably the most unpopular person at school and I have no friends. No, I'm not exaggerating, I do not have one single friend... Unless you count Marcia the lunch lady, and I'm pretty sure she's just doing her job.

Anyway the point is- no one was rushing to my aid. Then the brown haired man reached into his pocket. I stiffened, convinced he was about to pull a gun on me or something. From the surrounding gasps, other people had the same idea. (Not that that inspired any of them to suddenly run forward and help any more than before). My blood ran cold, and though my brain was screaming at me to run, I couldn't seem to remember how to move my legs.

After what felt like forever, he pulled his hand out of his pocket. However, the only thing in his hand was a small envelope with my name scrawled on it in cursive. A ridiculous wave of relief spread over me and I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. I took it gingerly when he offered it to me and read it through quickly. Despite the long piece of paper, there were only a few paragraphs. It read:

_To Miss Saphira Fay,_

_ Dear Saphira, _

_ This is your headmistress~ Ms. Black. I give you permission to go with these two men~ (their names are Chris and Paul) ~as they have something very important to show you and you could benefit greatly from their offer. I honestly believe that this is the chance of a lifetime and if you miss it- you will regret it for the rest of your life. As you will be absent for the next couple days~I have already informed your teachers and they have excused you from the days' lessons. _

_ I took it upon myself to have one of the maids pack your suitcase in your dorm. I entrusted it to Chris and Paul earlier today. I also spoke with your foster parents~ The Cantwells~ and they are completely fine with this trip as well. They wish you luck and happy tidings. You are in good hands~ and I hope you have a most wonderful trip. _

_ Sincerely Ms. Black_

_ Berwick Headmistress_

I read and reread the letter. My headmistress, one of the most responsible people in the world, wanted me to go with two complete strangers. In fact, she was practically pushing me out the door, having a maid pack my bag and already telling my teachers that I was going to be skipping out on the next couple lessons. And then there were the Cantwells. God, they wouldn't care if these men were physicopaths. They were probably just happy to have me off their hands for a few days. (If this is any hint: I'm not exactly on 'good terms' with my foster parents.)

Anyway, Ms. Black had left me with no way to get out of this. I had no choice, because even though she had technically only 'given me permission', I could read between the lines. She expected me to go and not make a scene about it. So, my cheeks red, and my nerves a tangled mess, I stood up from the stone bench, straightened my uniform skirt and slung my standard messenger bag over my shoulder.

The two men - Chris and Paul apparently- took my standing as agreement and led the way back to the limo. I felt the eyes of the whole student body on me as I walked away. Chris or Paul (I'm not sure which, as Ms. Black didn't specify who was who) opened the back door for me as the other climbed into the drivers seat. As soon as I was in, the man shut the door behind me. A second later, he had climbed into the passenger seat and off we went. The blonde one- the one in the passenger seat turned around to look at me, "Do you need anything Ms. Fay? Something to eat or drink maybe?" he offered generously. I shook my head, politely declining. He nodded once, then gestured to the movie and stereo system to my left. "Please put on whatever you like. And there's a fridge off to the side there in case you change your mind." "Thank you," I replied trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. He nodded once again and turned around.

Not really sure what else to do, I turned to the movie player and selected one at random. I needed something to calm my nerves and take my mind off what was going on. I also reached into my bag and pulled out a notebook and a pencil. Doodling helped get my mind off things most of the time. So that's how I spent the two hour ride. I drew small pointless things like flowers and lighthouses and dogs and cats as I watched Finding Nemo. Somewhere in the middle of the ride, I gathered enough courage to crawl over to the fridge and grab a water. I sipped it for a while and watched out the window as scenery rushed past. I had no idea where we were and when I asked Chris and Paul they either didn't hear me or ignored me, which set me on edge even more.

Finally, we stopped. From what I could tell, we were practically in the middle of no only building in sight was a cracked white cement building the size of a school. It was surrounded by what must have been a small forest. A faded sign over the entrance read 'Plymouth Hospital and Medical Center'. It was run down and obviously abandoned. My heart went into overdrive, beating so fast it thought it was just going to burst out of my chest and run away. Why were we here? Were they going to experiment on me? Were they going to lock me away? Panic swirled around inside me until I felt like I was going to throw up everywhere or hyperventilate, I'm not sure which... maybe both.

Chris and Paul came around and let me out of the car- the blonde one had my suitcase. "I can take your bag," the one with the brown hair offered politely. I handed it over, too weak with nausea and nerves to care or be suspicious anymore.

They led me to the entrance and I had the crazy idea to run off into the woods behind the clinic and hide until I could call for help. But before I had time to fully hatch that plan, we were inside and I had missed my chance. My first impression had been right. It was definately abandoned. There were papers and scary hospital stuff like needles and stringes and water bags spewed across the floor. Dirt was all over the place and just like the outside, that walls were cracked. "Hey- I-I don't think this building's s-stable." I stuttered, my voice an octave higher than normal. This time I knew they had heard me, but neither of them answered, they didn't even acknowledge that I had spoken. I bite my lip, trying to keep from crying with fear and anxiousness.

The building was deathly quiet, the only sounds coming from the men's heavy black shoes and my scuffing and tripping. We walked for what felt like forever, which was strange, since the building didn't seem this big from the outside. The hospital was starting to make me physically sick when we finally reached a stainless steel door that looked comically out of place in this neglected place. The brown haired man stepped forward, "Would you mind holding this for a second, Chris?" he asked passing my messenger bag to the blonde man. So the blonde man was Chris and the brown haired man was Paul. I felt an odd sense of pride in figuring that out.

Anyway, Paul pulled out a keycard and held it up to a tiny black dot. A green light flashed and the huge metal door swung open of it's own accord. Chris and Paul ushered me inside first. While passing the door, I got a sense for how big it really was. It was about as thick as Paul's shoulders, which was pretty darn thick. It must have weighed a ton, because when it closed, I felt it shake the whole building. Dust sifted from the ceiling and I looked around. We were in a small room with one window. And it was completely empty. That's when I completely lost it. "Please," I begged, "Where are we going? What do you want?!" I demanded. The two men looked completely startled by my outburst, and Chris hurried over. "Ms. Fay, we're very close now, we're just going to the conference room to meet Mr. Ramon and the rest of the team." he said soothingly. I pressed my fingers to my nose, not sure how much of this I could handle. "Please, Ms. Fay, we're almost there I swear. Would you like me to tell you exactly how much we have left?" Chris asked. I nodded. If there was more than three things I had decided that I wasn't going to go. I was going to order them to take me back and not move until they did. Chris smiled, "Okay, we go down the elevator, and turn right to the conference room." he said cheerfully. 1-down the elevator 2-turn right. Sighing, I nodded. No going back for me. "But where's this elevator, we're in an empty roo-" I stopped abruptly looking over to where Paul had been fiddling with something in the far corner. A loud beep sounded and suddenly the entire back wall completely slid open and in it's place there was now a glowing white elevator. My jaw just about hit the ground, "How?..." I trailed off, not really sure what else to say. Paul waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, Ms. Fay, Mr. Ramon will explain." he said, gesturing for me to enter the elevator. I was beginning to wonder just who this Mr. Ramon character was, and why he had decided to have a meeting in the creepiest place on earth.

Chris and Paul gestured for me to follow them into the elevator, and after a short second of hesitation, I oblieged. "Now, just a little warning, this elevator goes a little-" but I never figured out what the elevator did because suddenly, we were shooting downwards at speeds that should have been impossible. My long god-forsaken red hair was swirling around my face. My stomach felt like it was in my mouth, but somehow I managed to scream bloody murder. _I'm plunging to my death._ I thought breathlessly. But just as suddenly as the elevator had started, it stopped. The door slid open and I felt my feet giving out under me. I swayed backwards, dropping down toward the floor, but unable to catch myself.

However, a strong arm wrapped gently around my waist catching me before I could crack my skull on the floor. Completely disoriented, I looked up into the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. They were the perfect mix of blue and green, framed by long dark lashes a girl would kill for. Upon further inspection, I noticed the person holding me also had a mess of dark hair, toned tan skin and a devilishly handsome smirk. I felt weak again, but for a completely different reason this time. "Nice of you to drop in," the person said, in a smooth low voice. It was just like those movies you see where the girl finds herself in the arms of a gorgeous stranger by complete chance and they fall in love instantly and then live happily ever after with ten kids.

Except a second later the moment was ruined when a whiny female voice said, "James, that's so cliche, really?" The boy turned his head, looking at someone to the left. I tilted my head so I could see who he was looking at and my heart dropped. The girl that must have spoken was probably the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Her skin was pale, kind of like mine, but her's was, I don't know, _colder_ somehow. Her long hair, was about the same length as mine, but her's was a delicate shade of light blonde to my orangey-red and straight where mine curled. Her eyes were pure crystal blue. She was thin with long legs and a willowy build. I was immediately jealous of her. The boy, apparently James, lifted me upright, but didn't let go. "Ignore Kara, she's just jealous." He said with a wink. I felt my cheeks turn red, and turned my face away. Was he flirting with me? I heard the Kara girl hiss in disgust and turned just in time to see her storm off down the hall.

"T-thanks..for catching me." I muttered, so beyond embarrassed it wasn't even funny. I kept my head down, half hoping he would just forget I was there. He didn't. In fact, he ducked his head so he was in my line of sight again. "Anytime. So, what's your name?" he asked, the smirk returning. "S-saphira," I stuttered, feeling even more embarrassed. His whole face lit up, "Oh, so you're the girl Marc's been waiting for." he said. I looked up confused. Chris cleared his throat, "Marc Ramon. Mr. Ramon." he clarified. I nodded, feeling like an idiot, but James just grinned and said, "Excellent, I'll walk you to the conference room, I'm headed there anyway." I nodded my thanks, still hyper aware of his arm around my waist. It was getting really hard to think with him still touching me, even if he was just trying to be helpful, so I descreetly, turned away from quite possibly the most gorgeous boy on the face of the earth to get my messenger bag. Paul handed it to me with a smile and informed me that he and Chris would take my suitcase to my room. "Thanks," I said. When I turned back, James held out his arm, "This way to the conference room." he said gallantly. I smiled my thanks, and walked beside the most stunning boy I'd ever seen to the conference room. We made idle chatter on the way. He asked where I was from and I discovered that he had been living here (he called it the 'Den') for the last couple weeks.

We arrived at the conference room a couple minutes later, since it was only a short distance away. James pushed the door open and led me inside. The room was mint green with a white carpet and a large dark brown oval table with thirteen chairs. Eleven of them were full. Ten of the chairs were filled with teenagers all around my age. I noticed the Kara girl glaring daggers at me. The eleventh chair held a handsome middle aged man with blonde hair and a short beard. He wore a pressed button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tan khaki pants. He smiled when we walked in. "Jameson," he said nodding to the boy next to me, "I see you've found our final team member." His gray eyes twinkled at me. I gave a small smile, praying that I would finally figure out what this was all about. "Please take a seat you two, and I'll get started." Marc said politely, gesturing to the two open seats. An African American boy with the strangest pale green eyes pulled out the chair next to himself for me. "Thank you," I said, blushing (again) and sinking into it gratefully. James slumped into the chair next to me and the lights in the room dimmed.

A projector screen flickered into existance. We all watched as Marc clicked though several slides. He reminded me comically of the teachers at my school with their nerdy little slides. "Alright. So some of you know why you're here. Others don't. Today I'm going to explain everything completely and answer any questions you might have. Sound good?" Various head bobs around the room spurred him on. "Okay, let's jump right to it then. I gathered all you here to make a elite team of fighters." he said simply. There were a couple gasps around the room and someone burst out laughing. "I know it sounds far fetched, alright? I get it, but listen. I am a very wealthy man. I have resources. And I picked you all individually for certain skills you possess and potentials that you have. I have gone over and over the possible candidates for years. And it finally came down to you 12. Now as I'm sure all of you know, you will be staying a couple days- that's why you have suitcases and rooms. Over the next couple days, you will be training, getting a feel for what this team will be like. After that you are free to go... If you want. If not, you can stay here and be part of this team. You can have anything you want- like I said, my resources are endless. But there is a catch. To join this team is to leave everything from your previous life behind. You can't go back once you've signed up. So please make your decisions wisely... Now I know that was a quick explanation, but does anyone have questions?" Everyone was silent for a second taking in what this man was saying. And I know I wasn't the only one wondering if we could trust him. Finally someone raised their hand, Marc jumped to answer the question. "You said we are going to be fighters, right? Well what are we going to fight?" a boy asked. Marc hit some button on his slide show presentation, "There are a couple definate targets I have in mind right now, but we will, essentially, use this team to handle things that the government can't or won't handle." he answered. I nodded my head thoughtfully, not really sure how he thought 12 teenagers were going to take on things that government militias couldn't. "So, Mr. Ramon. You said you could give us anything. Can you give me the ability to fly?" some girl asked sarcastically. A couple people laughed, me included. Marc grinned a slow, excited grin that slightly unnerved me. "Actually, Miss Mercedes, I can." he said coolly to the girl. We stopped laughing. "Like I said before, kids, I have many resources. I have scientists that have been working on experiments like this since before any of you were born. All I'm asking for is a chance. For you to give your all in your training and I'll give you anything..." he said solemnly, "But please keep in mind: while I will do everything in my power to protect you on your missions, I can't make any promises that you will all return safe and sound. You will get hurt. You will go through such physical and emotional pain that sometimes you won't want to be part of this team anymore." The way he was talking, it sounded like he was speaking from experience. I leaned forward intently, and noticed others doing the same, "But it is worth it." he said heavily. And with that the lights flipped back on.

Marc clapped his hands together cheerfully, all previous somberness gone, "Alright then! Off to dinner. Unfortunately, I won't be able to join you, but please keep in mind that training begins at six o'clock sharp tomorrow. Please don't be late. Sleep well!" and with that he left the room. We were all silent, Marc's previous lecture replaying in our heads. It was a major choice. I could stay with the Cantwells, continue on with the life I'd always known. Or I could start over new here, and according to Mr. Ramon have anything I wanted. However I could also lose my life.

Ms. Black had been right; this truly was the chance of a lifetime... but did I want to take it?


	2. New Beginnings

***Author's Note: Hi again! So here's the next chapter; I don't really have much to say except thanks for reading! Enjoy:**

After Marc left, Chris and Paul came in and lead us to dinner. I had a feeling they were something like Marc's butlers. They were still wearing their black suits and sunglasses. I wondered how they could even see anything with them on, especially since we were inside, with controlled lighting. However, I was a lot more comfortable following them now than I had been earlier, since I knew for certain now that they weren't leading me to my death.

The group talked a little bit on the way to the dining room. Everyone was hesitant to speak, and when someone did, it was only little things like learning names. Not that it mattered; I was too distracted to even pay attention to that. I was more focused on my surroundings, seeing as when I had first arrived I had been too anxious to concentrate on anything, much less the decor. This time, instead of blurring every detail out of focus, my senses acutely heightened. Now I took in the themes and subtle touches. We were only walking through a hallway, which should have been bland and unexciting, but was actually the opposite. Each room we passed looked as if it had come straight out of a home decorating magazine. The furniture we saw was mostly wood and looked very expensive. A glass vase stood on a delicate table we passed filled with small glass beads and freshly cut flowers that stuck out the top. The flowers possessed a sweet, but slightly melancholy scent. Vaguely I wondered just how much Marc was paying his interior designer.

This place was probably the nicest place I'd ever been. The only thing that bugged me was the fact that I didn't see any windows. I mean, there were plenty of mirrors and paintings, but not one single window, which was kind of unnerving. I liked being able to look outside and watch the weather and the sky. I know it sounds really stupid, but it's just something I like to do. It makes me feel calmer somehow. With no windows, I felt kind of claustrophobic. Chris must have noticed my discomfort and asked me if something was wrong. I shook my head, "I was just wondering if there were any windows, that's all." I said, secretly hoping he'd say yes. Chris and Paul chuckled knowingly, like there was some kind of inside joke I didn't know about, "Sorry Miss Fay, but we're about a hundred feet underground. Even if there was a window, you'd only be able to see dirt, rocks and bugs, and that's not very pleasant." Paul said. I felt my cheeks redden, feeling stupid as I remembered the elevator. "Oh, yeah of course." I muttered falling to the back of the group, to suffer my embarrassment in peace.

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" A voice said from my immediate right. I whipped around, startled. It was a boy with carefree golden blonde hair. He had catlike eyes that were indecisively colored and narrowed in amusement. He was thin and lanky, standing almost a foot taller than me. As I was about to answer, he had already cut me off. At least I thought it was him. It sounded exactly like him, but this time it was coming from the left. Confused, I spun the other way, and saw the exact same boy. "How did you...?" I trailed off, turning back to the right. He was there again. I stopped walking. Two identical boys stood in front of me. Impish grins covered both of their faces. They were indistinguishable, right down to the last freckle on the left side of their noses. "Yes?" they asked in union, mischievous glints in their eyes. I sighed in exasperation. Identical twins. This was going to be fun.

"Mitchel! Mason! Stop messing with her, she's new." a female voice cut across the fray. I knew that voice. It was the girl who had made the comment about flying at the meeting. She pushed past the twins in front of me and I realized that I had been wrong about Kara being the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, because if you looked up stunning in the dictionary, this girl's picture would be under it. Her thick hair was jet black, her skin a smooth clear coffee color and her almond shaped eyes a warm brown. She seemed to radiate energy and warmth as much as Kara emanated cold and bitterness. I instantly liked her.

She smiled cheerfully as she walked up to me holding out a hand. "Hey, I'm Ambar." She said. I shook her hand, "Saphira." I answered gratefully, smiling back. "Don't worry about those two goofballs. They think they're hilarious." she confided with a wink. I laughed glancing at the twins, who had already lost interest in teasing me and had moved on to bothering Chris and Paul. "How do you like the Den so far?" Ambar asked. It took a second for me to remember that that was the word James had used in describing this place and said, "It's really nice, a lot better than it looks from than the outside." Ambar grinned, "Isn't it?! I thought they were bringing me here to kill me when I first saw it!" she answered animatedly. "You're not the only one." I said laughing. "So when did you get here?" I asked as we finally reached the dining room. She shrugged, "I think it was like nine days ago. I'm not exactly sure. The only people here were James and Kara. It's been pretty boring, actually. Someone would arrive every day or two, then today you got here and Marc had that meeting. Now I guess we get to finally start whatever the heck we were brought here for, right?" I nodded in agreement.

The dining room was just like the conference room with the white carpet and Walnut table, but instead of mint green of the conference room, the walls were a soft blue. The table was set with blue place mats, white plates with blue designs on them, blue napkins, and white cups. A huge bouquet of blue forget-me-not flowers sat in the center of the table, with a pale candle standing guard on either side. Ambar and I took two open seats near the middle of the table. Someone dropped into the chair next to mine, jarring my shoulder. I glanced up to figure out who had just tried to knock me off my chair.

It was James, yeah, the gorgeous one who caught me after my complete fail earlier today. He was seated in the chair next to me. "Hey, didn't see you there." he said with a wink. I blushed crimson, I seemed to do that a lot around him. "Hi," I answered meekly. He turned so he was sitting sideways in his seat, completely facing me, "So what do you think of this whole thing?" he asked me, a smirk sliding onto his face. My brain just about shut down and I'm pretty sure my jaw hit the floor, but somehow I managed to stutter out, "I-I um, I'm not sure, but, um, Marc seems like a nice guy, you know. And I, uh, I don't think he would be offering us this chance if he didn't know what he was getting himself into, right? Or is that stupid?" I laughed nervously and continued to chatter on, his attention making my stomach feel all nervous and fluttery, "It's probably stupid. But that's just what I think, I mean, why would he spend so much time and energy and resources on something he doesn't think is going to work? A-and he seems like a pretty smart guy, he must be pretty sure this has a good chance of working out right?" My stomach felt like if it had decided to hop on a roller coaster. I had another bout of nervous laughter, and by now I could feel almost everyone's eyes on me, as if I wasn't under enough pressure already. "But I think that this, um, this 'Team' thing, actually sounds like a good idea. I just don't think people would ever, um, I don't know, suspect teenagers of being capable of something like crime fighting, you know? But I also think a lot of people underestimate how capable we are. I mean, we put up with a lot as it is, and we're younger, more agile than adults. I guess there are a lot of pros and cons, to-to, um, each side, but I think this will- or could- could work if we all put our minds to it." I finished, absolutely mortified. The room was silent. I hadn't meant to babble on like that, but I couldn't seem to stop. James was still looking at me. _He's probably wondering how one person could be so idiotic_. I thought in self-resentment. I looked down into my lap, my face probably as red as my hair.

Slow arrogant clapping filled the room. "Oh, well done. Motivational speaker of the year. I could tell you really meant it with all that emotional stuttering." Kara's harsh voice called from James's other side. She was taking pride in my embarrassment like it was her own doing. Squeezing my eyes closed I clenched my fists, feeling my nails dig into my palm. I was so sick of this. I put up with it with at school, I put up with it at home with the Cantwells, I was _not_ about to put up with it here and definitely not with her. I stood up so quickly my chair toppled over backwards. All self-consciousness I'd had earlier disappeared as anger rose up in me. I could feel everyone's eyes on me once again, but this time it only spurred me on. "What is your problem?!" I exploded at her. "What have I ever done to you? You don't even know me!" I stepped over my fallen chair and took a step towards her, "All you've done since that moment I walked through the door is insult me!" I screamed, my anger boiling over the top. "Did I offend you or something? I'm sorry if I did- in the _two hours _I've been here _-_ but God! _Let it go!_" By now I was trying to stop, but I couldn't seem to. I marched closer to her until I could hear her startled breathing. "Listen to me now, and listen hard," I said, my voice low, "I've put up with girls like you my entire life. And I will not. I _will not_ put up with your attitude here." Her face was completely and utterly stunned. "So grow up!" I spit angrily. I think it's safe to say she was completely shell-shocked. _I bet no one's ever talked to her like that_.I thought to myself, anger still clouding my head. She straightened up, towering a good head taller than me, and took a threatening step forward. I didn't budge. The tension was so high- I was practically waiting for her to kick me into next Tuesday with those highly expensive boots of hers. But she didn't even touch me. With an angry snarl and nasty glare, she turned and left the room, the door slamming loudly behind her.

Silently, acting a lot more nonchalant than I felt, I turned back to my chair, stood it upright and sat down. Now that my anger was gone I felt weak and tired. The room was as silent as a graveyard. Then Ambar hooted loudly, the twins burst out in hysterics and soon the whole room was laughing. I just sat there and giggled a little, shaking my head at my own boldness. I couldn't believe I had enough courage to say that to her.

"Oh my god- We're going to be great friends!" Ambar cried, wrapping an arm around me. She was laughing so hard, she had tears running down her face and a stitch in her side. A girl with pixie like brown hair and hazel eyes kept saying, "Did you see her face? Did you see it?" The African American boy who had pulled out the chair for me at the conference gave me a thumbs up and a wry smile. I tucked my hair behind my ear and grinned back. Another boy, this one with brownish/blondish hair and royal blue eyes muttered, "I thought Kara was going to rip her head off," but he was eyeing me with a smile and a large amount of respect.

The whole scene had sent the room into chaos and everyone was laughing and talking. All the quiet awkwardness that had been there before seemed to have vanished. A shoulder nudged mine and I glanced over to see James again smiling down at me. His eyes were shining with amusement, as he said in low voice, "That was amazing," I felt my heart just about leap out of my chest, and naturally, my cheeks went pink. He smirked, "And I completely agree with you about the whole team thing," he finished. I beamed and all through dinner, I had a smile on my face that never quite left. I had just been complimented by quite possibly the most gorgeous boy on the face of the earth. For the first time in my life, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. The food tasted like heaven and over dinner I learned everyone's names. The African American boy's name was Blake. The girl that had been laughing about Kara's face was Millie. The boy that had thought Kara was going to kill me was Max. Then there was a blonde haired, surfer looking guy named Zander, and two girls with brown hair. One of them had hazel eyes, her name was Katie, and the other had brown eyes and was named Ella.

It was probably the best night of my life, though I knew that I was probably going to regret getting on Kara's bad side one day. But today was not that day. Today I laughed and talked and ate with my new friends. After we finished eating, everyone went off to their rooms and Ambar offered to walk me to mine (since hers was right next to it anyway). I accepted the help gratefully and we laughed and talked all the way there. She felt like some kind of long lost sister- like I had known her forever, even though we just met.

"Make sure you set your alarm," she reminded me, "we have to be up and ready at 6." she made a face that I mirrored. I had completely forgotten about that up until now. "Do you want to meet out here at 5:30 and we can grab something to eat before we have to be at training?" she asked. I nodded- even though I'd probably have to be up earlier, there was no way I wanted to be late to the first day of training just because I got lost. She smiled, said goodnight and wandered over into her room.

In turn, I entered mine and felt my jaw physically drop for the third time. It was beautiful. The walls were a pale shade of pink, and even though I'm not a huge fan of pink, I loved it. Especially since there were huge hand painted cherry blossom vines painted on the walls stretching across the room from the corners. The borders of the room were dark brown and the rug, like most of the rugs in the Den, was white. There were delicate paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, bringing the perfect amount of light to the room. A round table and three matching brown chairs stood in one corner of the room, and an identical desk in the other. A large bed with a white fluffy comforter and what seemed like hundreds of pillows awaited me up against the back wall, and while I longed to run over, collapse into it, and fall asleep, I couldn't help but check out the rest of my room first.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an odd square screen on the wall to my left. There was a small piece of paper taped to it. It read:

_Dear Saphira,_

_Chris and Paul informed me that you were disappointed in the lack of windows. I'm truly sorry that I cannot give you a real one (for obvious reasons) but I hope this will do. _

_Sincerely,_

_Marc Ramon_

After that there was a small list of directions. Following them, I tapped the screen with my finger and it turned on, taking the perfect image of a summer day. It was just like looking out a real window, the grass moved and the tree's leaves blew gently in the wind. Clouds moved across the blue screen. I smiled. It was such a thoughtful gift, I would have to thank him later. With a couple taps, I was able to turn it off and place the note on the round table so I could check out the rest of my room.

There were two doors, and upon further inspection, I found that one was a walk in closet, where I found my suitcase, and the other was a private bathroom. I had to press a hand over my mouth to keep from squealing in excitement. The walk in shower was made of glass, and had a misty white design that went up to my neck, so you could only see my head and shoulders when I stood inside. There was a white claw foot bathtub and a massive mirror that covered one entire wall. The makeup counter also had a mirror- though this one was oval shaped with a golden frame.

I absolutely loved it- all of it. Though, I was starting to wonder if maybe Marc had made these rooms so wonderful to bribe me into staying here. If so, it was working, because as of right now, I never wanted to leave. Glancing at the digital clock on my new bedside table- I saw it was only 8:45. So I quickly dug my pajamas and toiletries out of my suitcase, grabbed one of the fluffy white towels on the bathroom counter, and took a shower.

It was heaven. By the time I got out, my fingers and toes were all pruned. I brushed out my long red hair and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were still the sky blue they'd always been, almost the exact same shade as my father's. My real father, not Mr. Cantwell. My pale skin was rosy from my shower, making my faded freckles even harder to see, and my god-forsaken red hair was already going back to the loose curls I was cursed with. My mother always used to say that I was so blessed to have the hair I did. She used to say women spent hundreds of dollars to get the curls I had naturally and I was very lucky. Then she would brush my hair, which was the same color as her own, and sing to me until I fell asleep.

I felt an aching emptiness thinking about my parents again. I had only been eight when they got into a car accident on their way to work. Someone had rear ended their small blue Chevy off a bridge into the icy water 200ft below. The officials claimed they died on impact. After all from that high up, hitting the water would be just like hitting the concrete. That was eight years ago, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. The police had come for me at school, just like Chris and Paul did this morning. I sat through a twenty minute talk where the police had basically explained that my parents had died and they couldn't find any living relatives to place me with, so I would be going into the foster care system after my parent's funeral. That was probably the worst day of my life, the funeral. There were so many people there, patting my head, offering me condolences, but I didn't know any of them. They came up to me in bunches, telling me how sorry they were. But what do you say to that? Yeah, I am too? Most the time I just stood there, numb and unfeeling, for the most part ignoring the world around me. The only time I showed any emotion at all was when they tried to take the bodies away. Then I screamed and cried and held on to them with all my might until someone dragged me away kicking and screeching. After that I don't remember much. Life in the foster care system was dull, unexciting and quite frankly depressing. Though it didn't get much better when the Cantwells adopted me about a month later. The mom -Emily Cantwell- had her heart set on finding a little girl she could turn into her personal little trophy. Unfortunately, she chose me as her victim.

She would dress me up, show me off to all of her friends, cart me around everywhere, and enter me in pageants. But when we were home, I don't think she cared if I was even breathing as long as I stayed out of her way. And her husband- John- acted like I didn't even exist. At first, this made me upset, but after a couple years of being neglected, it didn't really hurt anymore. When I got into high school, people were so freaked out that both my parents were dead; they were scared to talk to me. It was like I had some kind of contagious disease and if they got too close, they could catch it and their own parents would suddenly drop dead. Anytime the words parent, mom or dad were used, a heavy silence would consume the room followed by an explosion whispers. However, by then, I was used to being avoided and outcast, so I didn't take it too hard. And that's the way it was until Marc sent Chris and Paul to come get me.

I laughed halfheartedly, setting the brush down. My life sounded like one of those tragedies you hear about in the news. It was slightly pathetic. I regarded my reflection in the mirror again. _So why did Marc pick me? _I wondered, surveying the scrawny girl in the mirror. I'm just about average at everything. I get good grades in school- but I'm not top of my class. I do a couple sports- but I'm no MVP. I'm just a perfectly normal teenage girl with no friends, no social life, and if you want to be dramatic about it, no family. So why wouldn't Marc pick someone who could actually bring something useful to the team? Why wouldn't he take the best of the best? People who could actually be an asset to this team? And what did I have to offer? A look clock revealed that it was almost 9:30. If I wanted to be able to keep my eyes open tomorrow I needed to get to bed now.

I left the bathroom and crawled into my impossibly comfy bed, praying that Marc Ramon could see something in me that I couldn't see in myself. Hoping that I could bring something- anything to this team. I turned onto my side, set my alarm for 4:45, which was pushing it, but I was pretty sure I could get ready that quickly, especially without a shower. Then I turned over, closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
